There are certain phrases that pop-up daily in conversation in Ghana. Most of the meanings are clear to any outside English speaker, but they certainly are not common lingo in America. We have been trying to compile the ones that are used most often. I hope the uses are clear.
“Mepa kyεw…” ----- (May-pah-cho) It means “please” in Twi. Ghanaians (at least in this area) rarely start a sentence without this word in front, or if speaking English, simply “Please…”
“All the best” ----- Used in place of “good luck” or “best wishes;” it has been especially useful of late since we are in the middle of exams
“Small small” ----- Often used to explain the extent of English people speak/understand, it simply means “a little,” “a little at a time,” or “slowly”
“You’re invited” ----- Perhaps the phrase most loved by Americans here, it is used to offer someone some of your food. Ghanaian culture is huge on sharing food and every good Ghanaian will invite you to join them or share with them even if it is inconvenient or impractical, or if they secretly hope you do not want any
“Have you taken…” ----- While we are on the subject of food, Ghanaians use this phrase to ask if you have ever eaten a particular food
“Do you take…” ----- Similarly, this phrase asks if you regularly eat a particular food or if you even like it
“Are you going to write a paper?” ----- “Are you going to take an exam (a final)?”
“Go and come” ----- This means exactly what it says. Ghanaians use this phrase a lot when they want you to do something with them but you are on your way somewhere else first
“He’s my brother” ----- This could actually mean the person he is referring to is in fact his brother (although if he is, they probably have different mothers, multiple wives is not at all uncommon and divorce isn’t quite as unheard of here as they would like), but the word in the local language for brother and cousin are the same so the person could be his cousin instead of his brother… or just a really good friend, or maybe just an acquaintance, a colleague, who knows really. No matter the relationship, this a term of endearment.
“You get me?” ----- Basically, “Do you understand?” or “Are you following?”
“Yaayee” ----- This is the response you give to a greeting you receive when returning from the field or farm
“Don’t keep long” ----- “Similar to ‘Go and come,’ basically means return soon, please”
“Zero-tillage” ----- For you agronomists out there, I just found it interesting that they use this term instead of “no-till”
“Can you imagine?” ----- It means exactly what it says, but Ghanaians use this phrase constantly as a statement of disbelief, frustration with a situation, or excitement about something that happened or what someone said.
“Eh, Challe” ----- This almost sounds like “Hey, Charlie!” when spoken. Challe is like a nickname or another word for friend. Someone likened it to “dude” in America, which is almost accurate, although it is probably closer to homey.
“Is that ok?” ----- Like “You get me?” this phrase basically means, “Do you understand?” or “Are you with me?”
“Does it pain you?” ----- “Does it hurt?”
“Please, I’m coming.” ----- It means “I’m coming,” “Wait here,” “One minute,” “I haven’t forgotten you,” “I will be right back,” etc.
“What are you reading?” ----- Unless you are actually reading something when asked this, the person is asking for what you are studying, what curriculum—what is your major.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Eat Your Veggies
So several weeks ago, our Fruits & Vegetable Crops lecturer, Madame Blay, decided to send us with a few TAs to three of the local markets/grocery stores to compare and contrast produce and their packaging.
We were all American and on time (why do we bother) and we ended up leaving an hour later (I could have gone to the class I skipped after all!). Off we went on another Ghanaian adventure. Two of my classmates (boys of course) crammed into the seat beside me, and one beside Karlie, despite all the teasing and laughter from everyone else for trying to sit with the obroni (white) girls. We talked about our farm and how it compared to agriculture here. It is always so interesting to hear what they think about America. (FYI- TV doesn't do us justice lol)
After a few instructions, the busload of us was unleashed on a large produce stand on the side of a very busy street in downtown Accra. We were required to write down everything we saw, the scientific names, and its packaging (or lack thereof). After a few minutes, I realized there were tons of them for which I did not even know the common names. But to my surprise, my classmates started turning to Karlie and I and asking questions. It finally became clear to us how little vegetables in particular are valued here. But even more amazing, was that the students were turning to us. After weeks of asking them questions and turning to them to fill in the large gaps in our knowledge of plants here, Karlie and I were finally making considerable contributions to class. It was an awesome feeling.
As we slowly moved from the market to the upscale (basically rich obroni) grocery store across the street, we continued to encounter produce very unfamiliar to them. I was basically drooling over the food I used to eat but is far too expensive here to afford as I explained how we prepare/eat everything from celery to pears.
As we moved through the aisles, my excitement for the fieldtrip grew. We slowly filtered back to the bus to head to our last stop. The class was just as excited as us I do believe. Bright, our class representative (which basically means he has all the notes for the class and can help you out if you ever need anything) was buying ginger cookies (a local specialty) and forcing everyone to try them, several of the girls had icecream cones, and Asontua had a bag of the tiny tropical flavored marshmallows that everyone was grabbing handfuls of and continuing to eat despite the awful faces they were making at the taste of them. I couldn't help but laugh inside at the mayhem that was our fieldtrip. I only wished Madame Blay could see how much we were learning, even if it was a little different than she had imagined.
The bus dropped us off in the parking lot at the mall this time. We were headed to Shoprite, the upscale grocery store in the upscale mall. Piling off the bus, it was like dejavu from the first few days after we arrived and they dropped a busload of obronis off at the mall. This time I felt a lot more confident and not just because I had a busload of Ghanaians behind me. I could tell how much I had grown in this place.
As if the first two stops weren't blessing enough for us, this stop was even more wonderful. There were even more new fruits and vegetables to discuss...and free wine samples. Hilarious trip. Everyone was so funny as they shoved the samples in each others faces to try. It was like children in a candy store (although slightly more controlled). Everyone was pointing and grabbing things and asking questions. It made me so happy to be there with them.
Definitely one of my best days in Ghana.
We all loaded back onto the bus with a few more packages of things to pass around. Everyone was discussing the end of the year parties for the department and the seniors and yelling at the traffic. I love Ghana. And I love my people who love crops.
Thank you Lord for days like these. Amen.
We were all American and on time (why do we bother) and we ended up leaving an hour later (I could have gone to the class I skipped after all!). Off we went on another Ghanaian adventure. Two of my classmates (boys of course) crammed into the seat beside me, and one beside Karlie, despite all the teasing and laughter from everyone else for trying to sit with the obroni (white) girls. We talked about our farm and how it compared to agriculture here. It is always so interesting to hear what they think about America. (FYI- TV doesn't do us justice lol)
After a few instructions, the busload of us was unleashed on a large produce stand on the side of a very busy street in downtown Accra. We were required to write down everything we saw, the scientific names, and its packaging (or lack thereof). After a few minutes, I realized there were tons of them for which I did not even know the common names. But to my surprise, my classmates started turning to Karlie and I and asking questions. It finally became clear to us how little vegetables in particular are valued here. But even more amazing, was that the students were turning to us. After weeks of asking them questions and turning to them to fill in the large gaps in our knowledge of plants here, Karlie and I were finally making considerable contributions to class. It was an awesome feeling.
As we slowly moved from the market to the upscale (basically rich obroni) grocery store across the street, we continued to encounter produce very unfamiliar to them. I was basically drooling over the food I used to eat but is far too expensive here to afford as I explained how we prepare/eat everything from celery to pears.
As we moved through the aisles, my excitement for the fieldtrip grew. We slowly filtered back to the bus to head to our last stop. The class was just as excited as us I do believe. Bright, our class representative (which basically means he has all the notes for the class and can help you out if you ever need anything) was buying ginger cookies (a local specialty) and forcing everyone to try them, several of the girls had icecream cones, and Asontua had a bag of the tiny tropical flavored marshmallows that everyone was grabbing handfuls of and continuing to eat despite the awful faces they were making at the taste of them. I couldn't help but laugh inside at the mayhem that was our fieldtrip. I only wished Madame Blay could see how much we were learning, even if it was a little different than she had imagined.
The bus dropped us off in the parking lot at the mall this time. We were headed to Shoprite, the upscale grocery store in the upscale mall. Piling off the bus, it was like dejavu from the first few days after we arrived and they dropped a busload of obronis off at the mall. This time I felt a lot more confident and not just because I had a busload of Ghanaians behind me. I could tell how much I had grown in this place.
As if the first two stops weren't blessing enough for us, this stop was even more wonderful. There were even more new fruits and vegetables to discuss...and free wine samples. Hilarious trip. Everyone was so funny as they shoved the samples in each others faces to try. It was like children in a candy store (although slightly more controlled). Everyone was pointing and grabbing things and asking questions. It made me so happy to be there with them.
Definitely one of my best days in Ghana.
We all loaded back onto the bus with a few more packages of things to pass around. Everyone was discussing the end of the year parties for the department and the seniors and yelling at the traffic. I love Ghana. And I love my people who love crops.
Thank you Lord for days like these. Amen.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Apirede- First Farm Trip
Saturday, 20 March 2010
4:30am and it’s already 84.3 degrees F in our room. I now know that I start sweating at 83 degrees (sitting still) and that anything below 75 degrees constitutes me pulling out long sleeves.
We weren’t really struggling to wake up at that time as much as we were to prepare ourselves for the hot and probably painful day ahead.
It actually wasn’t bad. Turned out to be one of my favorite days in Ghana. I love it when God surprises me like that. We spent the day with Ansah (aka “Rasta”) at his family village Apirede in Eastern Region, past Adukrom and Akwapim. To say the least, it was an amazing adventure.
We managed to pack and walk in the dark to the nearest tro-tro station to catch a tro by 5:30am toward Madina a larger town nearby. Ansah met us in Madina. He strolled up carrying one of the large plaid-print zippered bags that they use everywhere here to carry things. It was perched on his shoulder and looked relatively heavy. I wondered what was inside, but there was no time to ask. We hurried after him as he led the way to the next tro we needed to catch. He knew exactly where to go. I was relieved that we didn’t have to find it on our own like we originally thought. He loaded the bag in the back and we all climbed into the tro. It didn’t take very long to fill which was nice, and pretty soon we were on the road. It was relatively light outside by this time. Karlie and I bought a dough-ball from one of the ladies while we were waiting and it seemed like the perfect start to the day.
We rode for roughly an hour. No one really ever keeps track of time here. When you ask someone how far it is to somewhere, they quote you the price of how much it costs to get there by trotro rather than how long of a ride or how many miles. (Our ride costs 1 cedi 50 pesawas… about $1 US). We talked as we rode and Ansah explained lots to us about the terrain, what is grown where, what each area was noted for, etc. It was great to finally get to talk to him outside of class. The road “is one of the best in Ghana” he said. And it certainly was the best I have seen since I have been here.
His village is in the mountains so the view was beautiful. A welcome change in scenery. It also helped that the temperature was significantly cooler. The tro stopped in Adukrom (I think) and we got a taxi the rest of the way, which wasn’t far at all (but still cost us 2.50 cedi). We “alighted” (got out) at the Y-intersection that Ansah had drawn on the map he had made us earlier when we thought we would be meeting him in Apirede. We followed him across the road and through a large house with big rooms and cement floors. There were quite a few people out front of the house who greeted us as we came by. We came out of the back of the house and realized that the land sloped down significantly leaving us at the top of some very steep stairs instead of at ground level. There was a concrete patio at the bottom and there were women everywhere busy at work. Some were washing pots, washing clothes, feeding the baby—and animals were busy scavenging for leftovers: goats eating everything not tied down, puppies timidly licking and sniffing old wrappers, and chickens pecking at anything that fell to the ground. Ansah’s house was perpendicular to the first house and we made our way to the porch. The women were excitedly greeting us and rattling off Twi and smiling. We smiled and greeted them. We know very little Twi and they know very little English. It makes for great conversation lol.
We sat and talked for a while on the porch of his house and then followed Ansah around the yard to see a few of the different plants we have been studying and he insect damage to them. We saw whitefly damage to pawpaws (aka papayas). It was great to finally see some of what we’ve been learning about right there in front of us. He showed us coco-yams , which looks like it may be related to caladiums (Mom), and explained to us how it is eaten and planted. I was so glad to finally be able to picture it correctly. We saw a few other things and Ansah explained scion-grafting to us again—still not sure I completely understand, but it definitely helped. We had tons of questions, and Ansah answered them willingly. I think he was enjoying teaching us about his home.
After we had explored the yard, we sat on the porch taking in the daily life. I couldn’t help but think to myself how you can watch chickens peck the yard in any country and it is still entertaining. It made country songs pop into my head, which consequently made me miss home. Oh the simple life.
After a while, Ansah asked if we wanted to eat before we went out, which here means they are offering you food and you should probably partake. So we said yes and followed him back through the large house to the lady selling waakye and noodles. He ordered a really big bowl of waakye, noodles, two sauces, and fish. Karlie and I just looked at each other and wondered how on earth we were going to eat all of that. It turns out that the reason Ansah had asked us if we were vegetarians was not because we are American, but because he is a vegetarian, so he just sat and talked with us while we ate and then fixed himself some soup and waakye. Then we set off on our walk which he kept warning us was far. It was starting to warm up and I knew we’d be sweating good by the time we got where we were headed (you are never, not sweating here, but there are definitely different degrees of it). We grabbed our bags and headed out—Ansah, his mom, Karlie, and I.
Fewer people yelled, “Obroni! Obroni!” which was nice, but I wasn’t sure how everyone felt about having white people in town. About half the people greeted us warmly though and smiled and waved. Everyone knew Ansah and his mom. It was great to see such a community—kind of reminded me of home. We weaved through some of the houses on our way to the main road of farms. Ansah and his mom were each carrying half of the contents of the bag he had brought. It turns out that it was full of plantain suckers (sort of like baby plants- pieces of larger plants that can be rooted to form a new plant) and a coconut. The two of them had also grabbed some of the corn cobs that we had earlier poured out on the porch to inspect the weevil infestation and damage—so cool! Ansah was also carrying a machete (here they always call them cutlasses) and a short-handled, angled hand hoe (not sure of the name). As we walked, his mom just talked to us every few yards in Twi, telling Ansah different things to show us. We made our way down a huge hill on the main road (which was an excellent dirt road cut into the rocky hillsides, extra wide and leading to the River Volta). There were farms on either side, all carefully cut, and most also burned, into the hillside. We stopped to see cassava and identify male and female frawned palms. We stopped by two springs at which Ansah and his mom filled up two 1.5L Voltic (common brand of trusted bottled water here) bottles of drinking water. We saw a cocoa farm for the first time (and hopefully not the last)! His mom even made sure she found an old ripe cocoa pod that got left after harvest for us to try later. There were beautiful farms all around and so many plants. It was good to finally be familiar with some of the trees and such. We passed an okra farm and identified a yam plant (not sweet potatoes), saw giant millipedes (Jane lol), large mushrooms, and amazing views. Up and down another very large hill, past some nice houses. Ansah and his mom were constantly showing us things and answering our questions. It was great.
We were getting really close to another big slope of the hill when we saw a house on the left and Ansah spoke to the people in the yard. It was clear that they were good friends. The man made his way over and you realized that he, too, was a Rasta. He was smiling and speaking and we went to saw hello. After he greeted Ansah, I saw hello and suck out my hand and said my name. He just looked at me. All I could think was, “Do Rastas not shake hands? Ansah shakes hands. All the other rastas I’ve met do. Uh-oh, I just broke some code of Rastafarianism. He looked back at Ansah and started talking to him. At first I didn’t think he was speaking English because his accent was disguising his words until I realized he was Jamaican. I quickly realized that he was not in fact a fan of white people. He was going on about how we come in and they show us around and teach us about African ways and then we come in and take over. I’m not sure why, but he really caught me off-guard. He looked so friendly. And he didn’t start yelling at us like most anti-white people do. It just really surprised me. He wasn’t aggressive and nothing really happened, but the feeling stuck with me. Ansah said a few things (I can’t remember his reaction really at all) and we left.
The field was very close from there, and we walked just a little further. Then we cut through a narrow path into Ansah’s field. “I am an absentee farmer, “ Ansah laughed. It had been two months since he had been there and the field had grown back up with weeds. His mom wasted no time in setting to work. She grabbed the machete and started hacking away at the weeds, Ansah started digging, and Karlie and I just looked at each other like great now we have to stand idly by as the rich white people who have come to watch the Africans work. We kept asking how we could help, but Ansah kept saying we would help plant when they finished preparing the ground. “The tools are just 2,” he said. So we talked about agriculture, about Ghana, about America, about black and white, about Rastas, and about his friend’s animosity. It was interesting to hear his viewpoints and see how he views the world. I couldn’t help but think about how much I had learned in the last 2 days with Kofi and Richard’s visit, and now with our visit to Ansah’s village. God is really using this time here.
Pretty soon, Karlie thought about is moving the rocks out of the field. I was so glad she thought of something; we really wanted to contribute. So we started tossing them into two piles. Ansah said he would use them to build his house and I could tell his was happy at the thought of it. What a beautiful life. What a simple, appreciative, beautiful way to live. With everything you could ever need right there. Family. Friends. Community. Your own source of food. An amazing view from a hilltop (“mountain” here) overlooking the River Volta. Amazing. I can picture him settled there with a family of his own.
Once they had finished cutting the weeds, Ansah began digging the holes for the plantains. I followed behind him with the suckers and he showed me how to plant them. He carefully stepped them off. 4 paces between each, and lined them up by sight. Once we had planted them all, Ansah took the coconut over to his friend (I assume the Rasta) to place undertheir bathhouse where it would receive enough moisture to sprout. Meanwhile, Ansah’s mom removed all of the dried corn kernels from the cob into a bag. She then started digging holes and showed me about how many kernels to throw in. Since the weevils had damaged them so, we planted about 6 to a hole instead of the usual 2 or 3. I’m curious to know how many will sprout. After a while, Ansah returned and we finished up shortly thereafter. We were all hot, tired, and thirsty, but his mom continued working, cutting more weeds. Ansah cut open the cocoa pod for us. We sat under the shade of some weeds to inspect it. Much to our surprise there were layers of large seeds all around the inside, held together with a membranous layer. You remove them and suck on the seed until they lose their flavor, then you spit it out and take another. I have to confess, every time I tried one I almost cringed at the strangeness of the texture and flavor, but after a while the fruit tasted a lot like sour watermelon Sour Patch gummies. We ate quite a few and left the seeds to dry before they can be planted. We packed up to leave and suddenly there before us is a pile of sticks that Ansah’s mom has managed to bundle up from who knows where because there aren’t really any trees around. They were tied up with a vine. No one even saw her collect them. She is something else—busy at work always—not your typical example of a Ghanaian. I was in awe of her strength and work ethic. She puts many to shame (me included). We started on our journey back up the hot hills. She had the bundle balanced on her head longways, back to front. We stopped again at the spring to collect water, but she kept walking and disappeared up the road. Karlie and I filled up our bottled and drank some, then we climbed back out of the woods onto the main road behind Ansah. We saw the bundle of sticks sitting up the road a ways. Ansah’s mom was down in the okra (here they call it “okro”) field gathering some more sticks (only these were slightly charred from slash and burn) and talking to the two men down there. There was a very big, very steep bank to climb to get out of the field and here she came with her hands full. She tossed one up on the bank (which was more like a limb than a stick) and then climbed up with the others. Ansah wanted us to speak to the men, so we climbed down and stepped carefully across the okra field towards the men on the other side who were knocking down avocados out of a tree. We were busy inspecting bugs in the dirt while the men handed Ansah seven avocados. He asked if we could put them in our bag (unaware that he intended for us to keep them—what a gift!) and we put them in Karlie’s bag. We said “Medaase” (thank you) and started back towards the embankment. We climbed up carefully and realized that although the bundle of sticks was there, his mother was missing again. The two men were joking with each other and pushing and shoving and speaking in Twi. Ansah called to his mom who answered and we realized she was across the road up the hill and in a cassava field harvesting. Whose cassava field was it? I laughed to myself—why wouldn’t she be—she hadn’t stopped yet, why now. She brought down handfuls of tubers (cassava is much like potatoes and is certainly their equivalent here as in much of the world). She carefully placed them between the sticks of the bundle, tying the new limbs on as well with a piece of cloth. I carried the one largest limb. We started off again up the road. I was glad we had gotten more water. We talked as we walked and then I recognized some familiar tracks in the road—tractor tires! We reached the last hill and notices a motor-grader at the top working on the road—that explained the tracks. We took a detour through the trees and around a few houses to avoid all the dust from the equipment. Ansah and his mom spotted some mushrooms growing in a recently burned field just beside the path. They picked them and we made our way up the last stretch of hill to town.
The ladies greeted us upon our return. I can only assume they are aunts and relatives. Extended families live in close proximity to one another. We went in the house, and Ansah’s father and some of the children circled around the television. We sat in the other room and talked for a while. His mom came in and asked some questions which Ansah translated to us as “Would you like some yams?” We both agreed we would love to try some, hoping they wouldn’t give us too many. Of course they handed us a large plate piled with boiled yams, cocoyams, and cassava just steaming, and a plate of kontomere as well. The kontomere sauce is made of tomato, cocoyam leaves, pepper, and mushrooms. You just dip pieces of the tubers in the sauce. It was absolutely delicious! I think it is now tied with red-red for our favorite Ghanaian food.
After finishing the whole—yes—the whole plate, we decided to walk around and check out Apirede a bit. It has been raining while we ate, so it had cooled off significantly. The Ghanaians were cold but Karlie and I were fine. I love rainy afternoons. We walked the streets even though most people were inside. Quelea birds were chattering up a storm in two of the trees on the street. We passed the chief’s palace and Ansah’s grandpa’s house and started on the next street when it started to rain hard again. Ansah hollered to a girl on a porch a little ways away and we ran over to take cover there. She set up a bench for us. Ghanaians are such hospitable people. We sat for a while listening to the rain, watching the kind girl stir a pot of bankou (a very popular Ghanaian dish), and asking Ansah about his work in the north and agricultural extension in Ghana. When the rain eased up, we said thank-you again and made our way back to his house. There were more children yelling “Obroni” after us this time. When we got back we gathered our bags and said our goodbyes. Ansah’s mom asked us to stay overnight and leave in the morning. She was so sweet, but we really needed to get back. We said goodbye to everyone and agreed to come back sometime. We walked out into the street and waited for a tro to come. Surprisingly, one came right away. It turns out, Ansah’s uncle owns quite a few tros and the take him without charge, so we got a free ride to the tro station. The tro to Accra was full, so we took a taxi into the next town to meet Ansah’s friend and catch a tro from there. His friend, “Kind David,” a rasta who apparently loves women, and has the most beautiful wide, an adorable rasta son, and a nice house, wasn’t home but we met his wide and son who were very friendly. Then we waited for a tro but none were coming (always the case when you want to go somewhere without a Ghanaian with you). We began to walk back towards the station. About halfway back there came a tro to Madina so we hopped on and made it to Madina just after dark. We caught a tro going to Circle and made it back to Legon, although I felt bad that we were one of the first stops and were sitting in the very back corner, but with that guy’s ability to skip traffic by not driving on the actual road, they shouldn’t’ve been too upset.
We walked back to ISH discussing our amazing day. I felt so blessed. Thank You, Lord, for such an amazing opportunity, and for helping me slowly realize all that I have been given.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
God is Everywhere--Veggies, Not So Much
US v. Ghana: Developed and Developing Differences
Food
- Americans enjoy a variety of foods, including rice. Ghanaians enjoy a variety of rice, including plain, jollof, waakye, and occasionally fried
-The international student diet most often consists of rice, chicken, rice, rice, chicken, chicken, the occasional beef or veggie kabob, some (delicious) fried yams, bean stew, waakye, plantains, (unnamed) fish, rice, a fried egg sandwich, bread, a handful of groundnuts (peanuts) here and there, an entire pineapple (which can be purchased for 1 Ghana cedi or approximately $0.70 US… amazing), mango, Pizza Inn pizza (which is not the greatest I must add) but only on Tuesday nights when it’s buy one get one free, and every so often Lurking Louise’s laundry basket of banana-chocolate muffins, veggie pizzas, and mango pies.
- In the US, we primarily shop in supermarkets and Walmart. In Ghana, you shop in street markets (for food, produce, bowls, cooking supplies, weave, clothes, etc.) or out of your car window on the way home (for everything random). You can buy anything from super glue to supper to dewormer while waiting in traffic (be wary of anyone selling both food and dewormer; you should probably get your supper someplace else).
- Fast food in America consists of drive-throughs and take-out. Fast-food in Ghana consists of hissing at the lady with a box of fried dough balls or the boy with fanice to “bra” (pronounced brah not braw like you wear; it means come) to come over to your car, tro, etc. window while traffic is stopped to hurriedly measure out your portion and make change, which from time to time results in her chasing the vehicle waving your change in the air because traffic is moving again.
-On a daily basis we generally miss the following American foods: MILK, cereal (have it but very expensive), BISCUITS (real southern biscuits- not the English idea of a cookie), American cookies, French fries, steak, apples (they have them but they are expensive), baked goods of all kinds, bagels, good pizza, CHEESE, American pancakes, POTATO PRODUCTS OF ALL KINDS (mashed, fried, boiled, stewed, chips, tater tots, HASH BROWNS, etc), orange juice, apple juice, sausage (not hotdogs they call sausage), bacon, granola bars, candy, and then some.
Transportation
Tro-tro for sho-sho: In the US, most households have personal cars as the main means of transportation. Most people can drive and have drivers’ licenses. In Ghana, most of the rural areas do not have the capital to own a vehicle and the cities are crowded and crazy so most people use public transportation. Taxis are very similar to those in the US. However, instead of subways, lightrails, trains, etc., the main mode of transport is the tro-tro. Trotros are basically vans, anywhere from 9-15 passenger vans, usually makes and models I have never seen before (who knew Mercedes made vans), usually with many broken parts, and occasionally with a ground-light (is that the opposite of sky-light) through which you can watch the road pass by underneath your feet. So this is how it works. There are no schedules posted, not like a busing system. You stand beside the road with a group of people and wait for the vans to come by (they are everywhere). Each tro has a driver and a mate. The driver, well, he drives, and the mate is in charge of passengers, telling the drive when and where to stop, and handling the money. It may sound like the drive got the easy job but trust me, driving in Accra is not like anything in the US. As the trotros come by the mates are yelling quickly 2-4 names of places they are headed and making a hand motion that means the same things. If you are outside the front gate of the university, pointing straight ahead means Accra, to the right means La Paz, shaking the hand in a circular motion means CIRCLE, etc. When you hear the one you want you holler or wave at the mate and make sure he has room enough for however many of you it is as you rush to the side of the tro as it pulls off of the road. Sometimes the crowds are worse than others and you really have to fight to get in. Once all are on board and the tro is moving, the mate collects the money from everyone in between calling out the window for more passengers. Tros are definitely my favorite mode of transportation. They are inexpensive, fun, and always an adventure. A taxi ride that would cost me 7 Ghana cedi (almost $5.00 US) would cost me 55 pesawas (about 40 cents)… so cool. Plus, they are super fun to ride and just buy things out the window. Food in particular. You just hiss and over comes a bowl of water packets balanced on a girl’s head. Or dough balls. Or popcorn. Or frozen yogurt. Amazing. You also never know if your tro is actually going to make it to your destination. Breakdowns are common, flat tires happen, and wrecks are definitely not unheard of. It just adds a little excitement to your day.
There are some public bus systems that do have schedules for departure and that sort of thing, and they have become more popular in recent years, but still are not nearly as prominent as trotros, and much more difficult to buy things out of the window. Although they are probably much safer than tros. Tro accidents are pretty common and if you ever ride in one you will instantly know why.
Daily Living
Phones: Everyone and their mother has a cell phone… make that two. Cell phones in Ghana are contract free so you just buy minutes as you go along (which are everywhere to be found- you cannot possibly go a block without seeing a vendor of minutes and simcards).
Class: The lecturer may or may not be on time. The students may or may not be on time. The lecturer quite possibly will receive multiple phone calls during the course of class, which he or she is almost guaranteed to answer on the spot. Class times are also very different than in the US. Here, our ag. classes (called agric here) meet once a week for two and half hours, occasionally they also have a once a week practical (like a lab) also. And by occasionally I mean that this is Ghana and consistency isn’t really a priority (unless it is consistently a surprise). Most three credit classes meet for a two-hour lecture once a week and then a tutorial (like a recitation) for an hour a week as well.
Campus: Virginia Tech has about 25,000 students and miles of sidewalks all over campus. University of Ghana-Legon has an even larger campus with even greater distance between classes and even more students (between 35 and 40,000) and far less sidewalks. It is pretty acceptable to walk in the road although you do so at your own risk. While there are some paths alongside the road, walking on the grass is not very acceptable, and for some reason (which I have yet to discover) most people respect the wishes of the university to protect the grass.
Time: Ghana time. So very different than American time. Karlie brought up the point that maybe it is because they do not have seasons here like we do in Virginia and because of this may not feel the passing of time the same as we do, but regardless of the reason, Ghanaians are never in a hurry. They walk slow, the talk slow, the show up late, deadlines are more of suggested guidelines, and I have yet to hear someone say the word efficient. The only thing they are speedy about is driving. They are pretty aggressive in that case.
Fun Facts
God is everywhere: There is no way to deny the Christian influence in this country. Nearly every taxi, trotro, fruit stand, and shop is a reference to God or a bible verse. Names like God’s Time is Best Frozen Foods, Forbid Them Not trotro, and Psalm 23 produce.
Our favorite egg sandwich/bread stand is called Blessed Bless and is run by the nicest family Vivian and her husband and their oldest daughter whose name I cannot remember (she is rarely there, usually off at school), then Roberta (who quite often makes my sandwich), then Junior, and then Lisa (she’s three and at night sometimes she is full of energy right before bed so I chase her around and try to tickle her until she gets to giggling so hard she can’t run anymore or she screams so loud I think the whole market is going to come kill me). They work very hard and do not go home until school is out for summer. We try to go buy there everyday and make sure that they have business, which they do because so many of the students love them.
Veggies: We thought we were bad about eating vegetables in the states. No worries, Ghanaians like them less. They particularly dislike raw vegetables for the most part. When our lecturer asked if tomatoes were eaten raw the whole class yelled “no” while Karlie and I nodded sheepishly.
Oh, the possibilities: Anything is possible in Ghana. Anything. You can get your phone unlocked, fit 1,000+ songs on one CD, buy a DVD of over 3GB for 3 Ghana Cedi (about $2.10), may possibly live in the same building as your friend from camp in 5th grade, catch a rare disease, be proposed to daily, marry a millionaire, have class cancelled because Ghana had a football match (or because the power went out… again), go out and not have to pay for anything, have a really nice drug dealer get you into a club even though you don’t meet the dress code, learn to balance things on your head, buy any jersey for less than $10 US, and the list goes on and on.
Thou Shalt Not Steal: You don’t steal in Ghana. They don’t play. Thiefs by law are usually lynched, and that’s the punishment you pray for if you get caught stealing because it is much more peaceful way to die than if the public gets ahold of you. If someone yells, “thief,” you are probably a goner. The people around usually will beat a man to death if he has believed to have stolen. That has been difficult to wrap my head around. I know these things happen around the world but its different to actually see it accepted by a society. I hate to say it is common practice here. Generally speaking this deters stealing… or at least makes it more discrete.
TP: You bring your own toilet paper with you most places; it isn’t usually provided, although occasionally a lady will hand you a piece of newspaper. Really nice places may provide tp but it will probably cost you 10-20 pesawas to get in (7-14 cents). You always try to keep some in your bookbag and purse.
Righthand man: It is only polite to use your right hand when waving, gesturing, shaking hands, etc. Using your left-hand is usually taken as an insult although many exceptions are made for foreigners who obviously do not know all the local customs. Many of the local dishes are only taken with the right hand, which can be very difficult, especially when you need to break something into smaller pieces.
Personal Bubble: There is no personal space here. Bumping into people, standing too close, borrowing something off of someone’s desk without even acknowledging them, etc. are not offensive here. If you don’t stand closer than you think you should in line, you will get jumped. If you don’t fight for a tro, you will never get on one. It’s not rude, it’s not mean-spirited; it’s just how it is.
Right wing: Ghanaians are very conservative. They are a very religious-based society. Christianity and Islam are the two most popular religions, both of which call for conservative dress and behavior. Don’t think that everyone is conservative or that people are always dressed and acting modestly, but as a general rule skirts and shorts extend to the knees, tops are never low-cut, jewelry is minimal (relatively no rings, one set of earrings, one necklace, very rarely do you see anklets or toe-rings and usually on other nationalities, not Ghanaians), no tattoos, only one set of ear piercings, and no nose or other rings. This definitely does not mean that Ghanaians do not dress well. They by far, outdress Americans. Clean cut, dark or colored jeans, button-up shirts, clean leather sandals, or nice shoes. Hair is always done nicely. They never just “show-up.” None of that pajamas to class stuff. Not even work-out clothes. I always feel awkward if I have to go somewhere after dance class in my tights or shorts and tank-tops. They keep skin covered and do not understand why we wear short skirts and tank tops all the time. For some reason, I just never imagined that developing country college students would outdress developed country students. Also, homosexuality is not accepted here and it isn’t something that is talked about either.
Never a red face: Despite the fact that if Ghanaians blush you probably wouldn’t notice, one of the most amazing things about the culture here in Ghana is the lack of embarrassment. People laugh, oh do they ever. They will laugh at you for speaking Twi, they will laugh at you for speaking English, they will laugh at you when you trip, they will laugh when you make a joke, they laugh when they have no idea what you just said. They love to laugh, don’t get me wrong. But they do not laugh about the shirt their classmate is wearing and aren’t embarrassed by clothes, they aren’t afraid to tell you what they are thinking, and aren’t afraid to hear what someone else thinks about them (positive or negative). They ask questions when they have them. They do what needs to be done. They don’t make fun of your phone, your clothes, your home, or the amount of money you don’t have. They don’t tease boys for wearing pink (and boy do they wear pink). Girls hold girls hands and boys hold boys hands, and you will see it more than you will see a boy and a girl holding hands. There is no embarrassment, no concern of “what people will think.” They are friends, it is perfectly acceptable.
Fingernails: For some reason, it is common for guys to wear their fingernails longer. Sometimes it is just one fingernail which I have been told is just for usefulness, sometimes it is a whole hand, and in rare cases both hands, for which I have yet to hear an explanation. Interesting.
Tribal marks: One of the most interesting things about the people here is the common use of tribal marks. If you spend anytime here you will notice that many people have scars on their faces of difference sizes, numbers, and directions. Each ethnic group has their own markings that many children are marked with early in life. They are simply cuts to the skin that scar when healed and identify you as a member of a particular group. It’s amazing to see all the different kinds. Most of them are pretty awesome looking.
Food
- Americans enjoy a variety of foods, including rice. Ghanaians enjoy a variety of rice, including plain, jollof, waakye, and occasionally fried
-The international student diet most often consists of rice, chicken, rice, rice, chicken, chicken, the occasional beef or veggie kabob, some (delicious) fried yams, bean stew, waakye, plantains, (unnamed) fish, rice, a fried egg sandwich, bread, a handful of groundnuts (peanuts) here and there, an entire pineapple (which can be purchased for 1 Ghana cedi or approximately $0.70 US… amazing), mango, Pizza Inn pizza (which is not the greatest I must add) but only on Tuesday nights when it’s buy one get one free, and every so often Lurking Louise’s laundry basket of banana-chocolate muffins, veggie pizzas, and mango pies.
- In the US, we primarily shop in supermarkets and Walmart. In Ghana, you shop in street markets (for food, produce, bowls, cooking supplies, weave, clothes, etc.) or out of your car window on the way home (for everything random). You can buy anything from super glue to supper to dewormer while waiting in traffic (be wary of anyone selling both food and dewormer; you should probably get your supper someplace else).
- Fast food in America consists of drive-throughs and take-out. Fast-food in Ghana consists of hissing at the lady with a box of fried dough balls or the boy with fanice to “bra” (pronounced brah not braw like you wear; it means come) to come over to your car, tro, etc. window while traffic is stopped to hurriedly measure out your portion and make change, which from time to time results in her chasing the vehicle waving your change in the air because traffic is moving again.
-On a daily basis we generally miss the following American foods: MILK, cereal (have it but very expensive), BISCUITS (real southern biscuits- not the English idea of a cookie), American cookies, French fries, steak, apples (they have them but they are expensive), baked goods of all kinds, bagels, good pizza, CHEESE, American pancakes, POTATO PRODUCTS OF ALL KINDS (mashed, fried, boiled, stewed, chips, tater tots, HASH BROWNS, etc), orange juice, apple juice, sausage (not hotdogs they call sausage), bacon, granola bars, candy, and then some.
Transportation
Tro-tro for sho-sho: In the US, most households have personal cars as the main means of transportation. Most people can drive and have drivers’ licenses. In Ghana, most of the rural areas do not have the capital to own a vehicle and the cities are crowded and crazy so most people use public transportation. Taxis are very similar to those in the US. However, instead of subways, lightrails, trains, etc., the main mode of transport is the tro-tro. Trotros are basically vans, anywhere from 9-15 passenger vans, usually makes and models I have never seen before (who knew Mercedes made vans), usually with many broken parts, and occasionally with a ground-light (is that the opposite of sky-light) through which you can watch the road pass by underneath your feet. So this is how it works. There are no schedules posted, not like a busing system. You stand beside the road with a group of people and wait for the vans to come by (they are everywhere). Each tro has a driver and a mate. The driver, well, he drives, and the mate is in charge of passengers, telling the drive when and where to stop, and handling the money. It may sound like the drive got the easy job but trust me, driving in Accra is not like anything in the US. As the trotros come by the mates are yelling quickly 2-4 names of places they are headed and making a hand motion that means the same things. If you are outside the front gate of the university, pointing straight ahead means Accra, to the right means La Paz, shaking the hand in a circular motion means CIRCLE, etc. When you hear the one you want you holler or wave at the mate and make sure he has room enough for however many of you it is as you rush to the side of the tro as it pulls off of the road. Sometimes the crowds are worse than others and you really have to fight to get in. Once all are on board and the tro is moving, the mate collects the money from everyone in between calling out the window for more passengers. Tros are definitely my favorite mode of transportation. They are inexpensive, fun, and always an adventure. A taxi ride that would cost me 7 Ghana cedi (almost $5.00 US) would cost me 55 pesawas (about 40 cents)… so cool. Plus, they are super fun to ride and just buy things out the window. Food in particular. You just hiss and over comes a bowl of water packets balanced on a girl’s head. Or dough balls. Or popcorn. Or frozen yogurt. Amazing. You also never know if your tro is actually going to make it to your destination. Breakdowns are common, flat tires happen, and wrecks are definitely not unheard of. It just adds a little excitement to your day.
There are some public bus systems that do have schedules for departure and that sort of thing, and they have become more popular in recent years, but still are not nearly as prominent as trotros, and much more difficult to buy things out of the window. Although they are probably much safer than tros. Tro accidents are pretty common and if you ever ride in one you will instantly know why.
Daily Living
Phones: Everyone and their mother has a cell phone… make that two. Cell phones in Ghana are contract free so you just buy minutes as you go along (which are everywhere to be found- you cannot possibly go a block without seeing a vendor of minutes and simcards).
Class: The lecturer may or may not be on time. The students may or may not be on time. The lecturer quite possibly will receive multiple phone calls during the course of class, which he or she is almost guaranteed to answer on the spot. Class times are also very different than in the US. Here, our ag. classes (called agric here) meet once a week for two and half hours, occasionally they also have a once a week practical (like a lab) also. And by occasionally I mean that this is Ghana and consistency isn’t really a priority (unless it is consistently a surprise). Most three credit classes meet for a two-hour lecture once a week and then a tutorial (like a recitation) for an hour a week as well.
Campus: Virginia Tech has about 25,000 students and miles of sidewalks all over campus. University of Ghana-Legon has an even larger campus with even greater distance between classes and even more students (between 35 and 40,000) and far less sidewalks. It is pretty acceptable to walk in the road although you do so at your own risk. While there are some paths alongside the road, walking on the grass is not very acceptable, and for some reason (which I have yet to discover) most people respect the wishes of the university to protect the grass.
Time: Ghana time. So very different than American time. Karlie brought up the point that maybe it is because they do not have seasons here like we do in Virginia and because of this may not feel the passing of time the same as we do, but regardless of the reason, Ghanaians are never in a hurry. They walk slow, the talk slow, the show up late, deadlines are more of suggested guidelines, and I have yet to hear someone say the word efficient. The only thing they are speedy about is driving. They are pretty aggressive in that case.
Fun Facts
God is everywhere: There is no way to deny the Christian influence in this country. Nearly every taxi, trotro, fruit stand, and shop is a reference to God or a bible verse. Names like God’s Time is Best Frozen Foods, Forbid Them Not trotro, and Psalm 23 produce.
Our favorite egg sandwich/bread stand is called Blessed Bless and is run by the nicest family Vivian and her husband and their oldest daughter whose name I cannot remember (she is rarely there, usually off at school), then Roberta (who quite often makes my sandwich), then Junior, and then Lisa (she’s three and at night sometimes she is full of energy right before bed so I chase her around and try to tickle her until she gets to giggling so hard she can’t run anymore or she screams so loud I think the whole market is going to come kill me). They work very hard and do not go home until school is out for summer. We try to go buy there everyday and make sure that they have business, which they do because so many of the students love them.
Veggies: We thought we were bad about eating vegetables in the states. No worries, Ghanaians like them less. They particularly dislike raw vegetables for the most part. When our lecturer asked if tomatoes were eaten raw the whole class yelled “no” while Karlie and I nodded sheepishly.
Oh, the possibilities: Anything is possible in Ghana. Anything. You can get your phone unlocked, fit 1,000+ songs on one CD, buy a DVD of over 3GB for 3 Ghana Cedi (about $2.10), may possibly live in the same building as your friend from camp in 5th grade, catch a rare disease, be proposed to daily, marry a millionaire, have class cancelled because Ghana had a football match (or because the power went out… again), go out and not have to pay for anything, have a really nice drug dealer get you into a club even though you don’t meet the dress code, learn to balance things on your head, buy any jersey for less than $10 US, and the list goes on and on.
Thou Shalt Not Steal: You don’t steal in Ghana. They don’t play. Thiefs by law are usually lynched, and that’s the punishment you pray for if you get caught stealing because it is much more peaceful way to die than if the public gets ahold of you. If someone yells, “thief,” you are probably a goner. The people around usually will beat a man to death if he has believed to have stolen. That has been difficult to wrap my head around. I know these things happen around the world but its different to actually see it accepted by a society. I hate to say it is common practice here. Generally speaking this deters stealing… or at least makes it more discrete.
TP: You bring your own toilet paper with you most places; it isn’t usually provided, although occasionally a lady will hand you a piece of newspaper. Really nice places may provide tp but it will probably cost you 10-20 pesawas to get in (7-14 cents). You always try to keep some in your bookbag and purse.
Righthand man: It is only polite to use your right hand when waving, gesturing, shaking hands, etc. Using your left-hand is usually taken as an insult although many exceptions are made for foreigners who obviously do not know all the local customs. Many of the local dishes are only taken with the right hand, which can be very difficult, especially when you need to break something into smaller pieces.
Personal Bubble: There is no personal space here. Bumping into people, standing too close, borrowing something off of someone’s desk without even acknowledging them, etc. are not offensive here. If you don’t stand closer than you think you should in line, you will get jumped. If you don’t fight for a tro, you will never get on one. It’s not rude, it’s not mean-spirited; it’s just how it is.
Right wing: Ghanaians are very conservative. They are a very religious-based society. Christianity and Islam are the two most popular religions, both of which call for conservative dress and behavior. Don’t think that everyone is conservative or that people are always dressed and acting modestly, but as a general rule skirts and shorts extend to the knees, tops are never low-cut, jewelry is minimal (relatively no rings, one set of earrings, one necklace, very rarely do you see anklets or toe-rings and usually on other nationalities, not Ghanaians), no tattoos, only one set of ear piercings, and no nose or other rings. This definitely does not mean that Ghanaians do not dress well. They by far, outdress Americans. Clean cut, dark or colored jeans, button-up shirts, clean leather sandals, or nice shoes. Hair is always done nicely. They never just “show-up.” None of that pajamas to class stuff. Not even work-out clothes. I always feel awkward if I have to go somewhere after dance class in my tights or shorts and tank-tops. They keep skin covered and do not understand why we wear short skirts and tank tops all the time. For some reason, I just never imagined that developing country college students would outdress developed country students. Also, homosexuality is not accepted here and it isn’t something that is talked about either.
Never a red face: Despite the fact that if Ghanaians blush you probably wouldn’t notice, one of the most amazing things about the culture here in Ghana is the lack of embarrassment. People laugh, oh do they ever. They will laugh at you for speaking Twi, they will laugh at you for speaking English, they will laugh at you when you trip, they will laugh when you make a joke, they laugh when they have no idea what you just said. They love to laugh, don’t get me wrong. But they do not laugh about the shirt their classmate is wearing and aren’t embarrassed by clothes, they aren’t afraid to tell you what they are thinking, and aren’t afraid to hear what someone else thinks about them (positive or negative). They ask questions when they have them. They do what needs to be done. They don’t make fun of your phone, your clothes, your home, or the amount of money you don’t have. They don’t tease boys for wearing pink (and boy do they wear pink). Girls hold girls hands and boys hold boys hands, and you will see it more than you will see a boy and a girl holding hands. There is no embarrassment, no concern of “what people will think.” They are friends, it is perfectly acceptable.
Fingernails: For some reason, it is common for guys to wear their fingernails longer. Sometimes it is just one fingernail which I have been told is just for usefulness, sometimes it is a whole hand, and in rare cases both hands, for which I have yet to hear an explanation. Interesting.
Tribal marks: One of the most interesting things about the people here is the common use of tribal marks. If you spend anytime here you will notice that many people have scars on their faces of difference sizes, numbers, and directions. Each ethnic group has their own markings that many children are marked with early in life. They are simply cuts to the skin that scar when healed and identify you as a member of a particular group. It’s amazing to see all the different kinds. Most of them are pretty awesome looking.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Latest adventure: Mole National Park
So last weekend was Mole National Park.
We met outside at 5am Friday morning to catch the bus, which only fitting of the national sense of time here, arrived about 5:30. Not only was it later than expected, it was smaller than expected. Instead of the tour buses we have used in the past, this bus was smaller, the only storage being the top of the bus. I can remember thinking at least it is going to be an adventure.
We finally departed about an hour behind schedule. Vivian, our wonderful tour guide/responsible adult, bid us good morning and informed us that the journey would take 10 to 14 hours. We were thankful for the air conditioning.
Most of the roads in Africa are dirt, and sorry roads at that. Solomon, our driver, did his best to get us there in a timely fashion and still keep the bus in one piece (easier said than done). I am sure that he puts Nascar to shame. He can dodge potholes, dogs, large rocks, and small children better than most drivers can warm their tires. Incredible.
We made a few stops on the way: breakfast at a reststop, potty break on the side of the road (most of us were tricked into believing there was actually a bathroom lol) midmorning, lunch and break at a market somewhere (ask about the toilet facilities later- we’d love to share), stopped for traffic/construction on some dirt road in the middle of nowhere, where we managed to buy 3 huge carrots for 1 cedi from a lady off the side of the road (I’m pretty sure the bus about bought her out) and about 10 oranges for a cedi (just in case you were wondering 1 Ghana cedi = about 70 US cents… crazy I know), and probably several other interesting stops before we got there.
So after 14 hours, several stops, and lots of naps, we finally reached Mole (pronounced Mo-lay)! It was almost 9pm. We ordered supper… we’ll most people did but Karlie and I had eaten so much on the ride already and we thought that 9cedi for a meal was absolutely ridiculous (spoiled by local vendors) that we decided to pass on supper and go to bed.
We got up early in the morning for our walking tour of a small portion of the park. As soon as we set foot outside, it began to sink it where exactly we were. Africa is most beautiful in the mornings. She cool and quiet, it is the best part of the day. As if the view over the thousands of Acres wasn’t amazing enough there were warthogs sniffing around right outside our rooms. Sweet!
We met our guide, DK, he gave us the rundown on the history of the park, and we set out walking. I wish you could see what we saw; it won’t sound nearly as cool to read it. First of all we saw some crocodiles around the watering hole but never managed to get too close because they all dove into the water. We walked further and saw all kinds of birds and deer-like creatures. There were cattle egrets, eagles, cob, waterbuck, and bushbuck. We continued walking. It was clear that DK was on the search for elephants and we were all hoping to see them as well. DK was very observant, he pointed out many animal prints in the dirt and even showed us the tracks of a leopard dragging its prey (how cool). He was a middle-aged man and looked like he enjoyed his job. He wore the green park uniform and boots, and he carried his gun carefully, making sure to never point it at any of us. He gladly answered our questions and was obviously very knowledgeable about the park and all that resides there. We had been walking for close to an hour when he said we would start back towards the watering hole and hope to catch up to the elephants soon. It was still only about 8am but the African sun was starting at its daily work. I think everyone was a little worried that we wouldn’t get to see any elephants. I think DK was more worried though. He was on his cell phone a lot with the other guides trying to find out if they had seen any.
We were walking along as normal when he came back to the back of the line and said, “this way!” He was pointing through so many trees we couldn’t see what he was after, but after walking a little ways we finally spotted them. ELEPHANTS! We quickly caught up to them and began taking pictures. DK instructed us to stay together and keep our distance, but we were so much closer than I thought we would be able to get. They were probably within 30 yards. Everyone was taking pictures and DK made sure we had the best shots possible. He called the other groups and told them where to find us and the elephants and everyone got a chance to see them up close. Crazy! We walked with them back to the watering hole. They were two males that DK said (without hesitation) were about 55-56 years old. We were very impressed with him, so our group decided to do a 4x4 tour with him later in the afternoon.
We hiked back up the hill to our rooms, only to discover there was a baboon strolling along the back porch of our motel, fervently checking every door to see if it was unlocked (glad we fixed our lock the night before). When he was unsuccessful he then began to raid the trashcans. Pretty soon there were a few families of baboons (babies included) running around our motel, really putting on a show. Only in Africa. We finally made it over for breakfast which was free (thank goodness) and then made our journey to Larabanga, a nearby town which is home to the oldest mosque in Ghana. We walked around the village there for a while, met the people, and took pictures of the mosque (built in 1410 from clay-mud- incredible)! Then we made the journey back to Mole to take a nap before our afternoon excursion.
Totally worth it. Even though the 8 of us (plus the driver and DK) were packed into the back of a Land Rover for 2 hours, the 4x4 tour was awesome as well. We saw a new deer-like animal, an owl, red monkeys, baboons, lots of warthogs, and a herd of female elephants!
We ate supper and crashed early Saturday night. We were leaving early again.
The journey back wasn’t too bad. We stopped at Kintampo Falls to check out the waterfall, some of us even swam. We also stopped for lunch in Kumasi (another large city in Ghana). But, as soon as we got outside of Kumasi on the way back, one of our friends got sick. He had been feeling ill for several days but this was worse. He was pretty sick for the next hour or so of driving and we finally decided to take him to a nearby hospital (Konongo –Something- Government Hospital). Two of the girls and Vivian stayed with him overnight at the hospital. Vivian decided there was no point in all of waiting for him so she was going to send us back with Solomon… except Solomon wasn’t at the bus anymore; he had reasoned that we would be here for at minimum an hour and had decided he would wait just down the street at a local bar. Nice. So know we were leaving and Solomon had just started drinking good. Lol. Oh Ghana.
(Momma, if you decide to read the next paragraph, please don’t worry… and please, please don’t tell Mummum)
Needless to say, we were all tired and ready to be back. The delay wasn’t helping our moods any, and apparently Solomon was feeling our pain. We asked him how long til we made it back to campus. He said 4 hours. Two and half hours later, we were back. To say the least, speed limits in Ghana are more of a suggestion than a limitation (speed limit: 80km/hr… current speed: 140km/hr). This was the first time we wore our seatbelts in Ghana. There were several points when oncoming traffic had to run off of the road to avoid hitting us. At least we were in a bus so no one challenged us. Surprisingly the only thing we hit on the journey was a small chicken… poor chicken (good thing Taylor wasn’t with us then).
Well, we made it back in one piece! It was a great trip. If you’re ever in Ghana, I definitely recommend Mole (but I recommend either bringing your own food or lots of money).
We met outside at 5am Friday morning to catch the bus, which only fitting of the national sense of time here, arrived about 5:30. Not only was it later than expected, it was smaller than expected. Instead of the tour buses we have used in the past, this bus was smaller, the only storage being the top of the bus. I can remember thinking at least it is going to be an adventure.
We finally departed about an hour behind schedule. Vivian, our wonderful tour guide/responsible adult, bid us good morning and informed us that the journey would take 10 to 14 hours. We were thankful for the air conditioning.
Most of the roads in Africa are dirt, and sorry roads at that. Solomon, our driver, did his best to get us there in a timely fashion and still keep the bus in one piece (easier said than done). I am sure that he puts Nascar to shame. He can dodge potholes, dogs, large rocks, and small children better than most drivers can warm their tires. Incredible.
We made a few stops on the way: breakfast at a reststop, potty break on the side of the road (most of us were tricked into believing there was actually a bathroom lol) midmorning, lunch and break at a market somewhere (ask about the toilet facilities later- we’d love to share), stopped for traffic/construction on some dirt road in the middle of nowhere, where we managed to buy 3 huge carrots for 1 cedi from a lady off the side of the road (I’m pretty sure the bus about bought her out) and about 10 oranges for a cedi (just in case you were wondering 1 Ghana cedi = about 70 US cents… crazy I know), and probably several other interesting stops before we got there.
So after 14 hours, several stops, and lots of naps, we finally reached Mole (pronounced Mo-lay)! It was almost 9pm. We ordered supper… we’ll most people did but Karlie and I had eaten so much on the ride already and we thought that 9cedi for a meal was absolutely ridiculous (spoiled by local vendors) that we decided to pass on supper and go to bed.
We got up early in the morning for our walking tour of a small portion of the park. As soon as we set foot outside, it began to sink it where exactly we were. Africa is most beautiful in the mornings. She cool and quiet, it is the best part of the day. As if the view over the thousands of Acres wasn’t amazing enough there were warthogs sniffing around right outside our rooms. Sweet!
We met our guide, DK, he gave us the rundown on the history of the park, and we set out walking. I wish you could see what we saw; it won’t sound nearly as cool to read it. First of all we saw some crocodiles around the watering hole but never managed to get too close because they all dove into the water. We walked further and saw all kinds of birds and deer-like creatures. There were cattle egrets, eagles, cob, waterbuck, and bushbuck. We continued walking. It was clear that DK was on the search for elephants and we were all hoping to see them as well. DK was very observant, he pointed out many animal prints in the dirt and even showed us the tracks of a leopard dragging its prey (how cool). He was a middle-aged man and looked like he enjoyed his job. He wore the green park uniform and boots, and he carried his gun carefully, making sure to never point it at any of us. He gladly answered our questions and was obviously very knowledgeable about the park and all that resides there. We had been walking for close to an hour when he said we would start back towards the watering hole and hope to catch up to the elephants soon. It was still only about 8am but the African sun was starting at its daily work. I think everyone was a little worried that we wouldn’t get to see any elephants. I think DK was more worried though. He was on his cell phone a lot with the other guides trying to find out if they had seen any.
We were walking along as normal when he came back to the back of the line and said, “this way!” He was pointing through so many trees we couldn’t see what he was after, but after walking a little ways we finally spotted them. ELEPHANTS! We quickly caught up to them and began taking pictures. DK instructed us to stay together and keep our distance, but we were so much closer than I thought we would be able to get. They were probably within 30 yards. Everyone was taking pictures and DK made sure we had the best shots possible. He called the other groups and told them where to find us and the elephants and everyone got a chance to see them up close. Crazy! We walked with them back to the watering hole. They were two males that DK said (without hesitation) were about 55-56 years old. We were very impressed with him, so our group decided to do a 4x4 tour with him later in the afternoon.
We hiked back up the hill to our rooms, only to discover there was a baboon strolling along the back porch of our motel, fervently checking every door to see if it was unlocked (glad we fixed our lock the night before). When he was unsuccessful he then began to raid the trashcans. Pretty soon there were a few families of baboons (babies included) running around our motel, really putting on a show. Only in Africa. We finally made it over for breakfast which was free (thank goodness) and then made our journey to Larabanga, a nearby town which is home to the oldest mosque in Ghana. We walked around the village there for a while, met the people, and took pictures of the mosque (built in 1410 from clay-mud- incredible)! Then we made the journey back to Mole to take a nap before our afternoon excursion.
Totally worth it. Even though the 8 of us (plus the driver and DK) were packed into the back of a Land Rover for 2 hours, the 4x4 tour was awesome as well. We saw a new deer-like animal, an owl, red monkeys, baboons, lots of warthogs, and a herd of female elephants!
We ate supper and crashed early Saturday night. We were leaving early again.
The journey back wasn’t too bad. We stopped at Kintampo Falls to check out the waterfall, some of us even swam. We also stopped for lunch in Kumasi (another large city in Ghana). But, as soon as we got outside of Kumasi on the way back, one of our friends got sick. He had been feeling ill for several days but this was worse. He was pretty sick for the next hour or so of driving and we finally decided to take him to a nearby hospital (Konongo –Something- Government Hospital). Two of the girls and Vivian stayed with him overnight at the hospital. Vivian decided there was no point in all of waiting for him so she was going to send us back with Solomon… except Solomon wasn’t at the bus anymore; he had reasoned that we would be here for at minimum an hour and had decided he would wait just down the street at a local bar. Nice. So know we were leaving and Solomon had just started drinking good. Lol. Oh Ghana.
(Momma, if you decide to read the next paragraph, please don’t worry… and please, please don’t tell Mummum)
Needless to say, we were all tired and ready to be back. The delay wasn’t helping our moods any, and apparently Solomon was feeling our pain. We asked him how long til we made it back to campus. He said 4 hours. Two and half hours later, we were back. To say the least, speed limits in Ghana are more of a suggestion than a limitation (speed limit: 80km/hr… current speed: 140km/hr). This was the first time we wore our seatbelts in Ghana. There were several points when oncoming traffic had to run off of the road to avoid hitting us. At least we were in a bus so no one challenged us. Surprisingly the only thing we hit on the journey was a small chicken… poor chicken (good thing Taylor wasn’t with us then).
Well, we made it back in one piece! It was a great trip. If you’re ever in Ghana, I definitely recommend Mole (but I recommend either bringing your own food or lots of money).
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Pretty Girl
By the time we reach middle school, girls notice the attention paid by the boys to the few girls who are “easiest on the eyes.” They are born with the looks, the personality, a certain air about them, and soon, the rest of us come to accept this hierarchy of attention. Those of us blessed with “better personalities than looks” (thanks moms) have each wondered at some point what it would be like to be “the pretty girl,” to have the boys pay us attention. But as we mature and realize that our looks won’t change enough with age to bump us up to the next category, we accept that we may never know what it is like to receive that attention. So it was with me…
…until I arrived in Ghana.
You see, in America, white is ignored (it’s average, it’s common, it’s not exciting), but in Ghana, white is exotic.
It is a very rare occasion indeed if you (a girl) manage to walk around campus for the day, (let’s not even talk about the beach) without a thousand hellos, tons of shouts of “Obruni” (“white person” in the local language), several requests for your phone number (which you always pretend you do not own), and even a marriage proposal or two (after which you flash whatever ring you may be wearing).
So this is what it’s like to be “the pretty girl.”
At first, it’s flattering to be noticed, recognized, to feel special, but that quickly changes to annoyance as you begin to question how many people are interested in being your friend, and how many are interested in you being their friend. Who wants to get to know you and who simply wants to be seen with you?
Unreal. This is a struggle I never thought I would see.
It was middle school, not too long after I began to wonder what it would be like to be “the pretty girl,” that I began to understand the superficiality of the attention she receives. After a while, I became thankful, realizing that I was spared the daily question of “Does he/she really like me for me?”
So it’s ironic that here I am, nearly ten years later, fulfilling the curiosity that had provoked me as a child. And God is laughing, saying, “It’s all in My timing, Lindy. I always answer you, just rarely when you expect it.”
…until I arrived in Ghana.
You see, in America, white is ignored (it’s average, it’s common, it’s not exciting), but in Ghana, white is exotic.
It is a very rare occasion indeed if you (a girl) manage to walk around campus for the day, (let’s not even talk about the beach) without a thousand hellos, tons of shouts of “Obruni” (“white person” in the local language), several requests for your phone number (which you always pretend you do not own), and even a marriage proposal or two (after which you flash whatever ring you may be wearing).
So this is what it’s like to be “the pretty girl.”
At first, it’s flattering to be noticed, recognized, to feel special, but that quickly changes to annoyance as you begin to question how many people are interested in being your friend, and how many are interested in you being their friend. Who wants to get to know you and who simply wants to be seen with you?
Unreal. This is a struggle I never thought I would see.
It was middle school, not too long after I began to wonder what it would be like to be “the pretty girl,” that I began to understand the superficiality of the attention she receives. After a while, I became thankful, realizing that I was spared the daily question of “Does he/she really like me for me?”
So it’s ironic that here I am, nearly ten years later, fulfilling the curiosity that had provoked me as a child. And God is laughing, saying, “It’s all in My timing, Lindy. I always answer you, just rarely when you expect it.”
Cape Coast and Kakum National Park
Cape Coast (Saturday, January 30, 2010)
After crashing super early Friday night after supper at the Night Market didn’t agree with me, I got up about 6 am to the already broken day outside to start packing for our trip. We walked to the Night Market about 8am to stock up on snacks and breakfast (2 egg sandwiches, 2 loaves of bread, juice, 1.5 L water, and cookies all for about $4 U.S.) and then loaded the tour bus. It took us about 3 hours to reach Cape Coast after crazy Saturday traffic and a pit stop at a very nice bathroom. We pulled into the university there for a (delicious) lunch of your choice of chicken/fish and plain/fried/jolaf rice. Then we set out for the slave castle there. The tour was informative and thought-provoking. I couldn’t begin to get my mind around how difficult that was for the people who passed through those dungeons and tunnels. The will power that they must have possessed to get through such horrors is beyond me. As we emerged from the dungeons to the beauty of the coastline just outside the walls, it was ironically fitting that the polar opposites lay so closely. You could feel freedom in the waves, the breeze, the beauty of the sunshine; all the while you could feel the pain of slavery in the strain of your eyes in the dark rooms, the stench of the dungeons, and the hopelessness of the future that the castle presented. It almost seemed wrong to smile for pictures.
After our tour, we hopped back on the bus and headed for our hotel for the night, which turned out to be a botel (whatever that means). It was located way out of the way but was close to Kakum (our destination for Sunday) and has excellent accommodations. There was a pool for swimming and hot water for showers. Some of the rooms even had air conditioning. A pond was located out front with a path around it so that you could get a better look at the crocodiles, of which there were apparently about 40. Some of us even pet a baby one who had come up on the bank. That is where we met Melissa (of Canada) and Alex (of England). We spent most of the night talking with them about movies, television, fast food, and other cultural issues of importance, while Judith and Mitch waited for their food. A band played throughout the evening and Evan even joined them on the drums once or twice before we all called it quits.
Kakum National Park (Sunday, January 31, 2010)
So we woke up about 6 this morning to the sound of thousands of birds outside. It didn’t take me long to realize that I was still at the botel. Karlie and I were the only ones up in our room and we tried our best not to wake anyone. We took showers, spent a little time reading and then headed to breakfast with Judith. Fresh orange juice. Toast, butter, marmalade, fried eggs, pineapple. Yum.
Mitch, Judith, Karlie, and I sat with Melissa and Alex, our two friends from the night before, and once again compared cultural differences. We didn’t have long before we had to say our goodbyes, pack up, and load the bus. We headed for Kakum National Park. We arrived a little early and had time to check out the gift shop before the hike up to the canopy walk. Our tour guide, “Fred,” told us a little about the rainforest and then we headed up to the canopy walk. It was composed of 6 or 7 bridges suspended by cables and rope, with aluminum ladders overlaid with 2x6s as a floor. It was plenty sturdy, but of course it shook and swayed. We all took lots of pictures (when we dared) and laughed and joked with each other as we enjoyed the scenery. I still couldn’t believe we are in Africa. Will it ever sink in?
Once we were on the bus, we were all ready for lunch. Again, we stopped at the restaurant on campus at Cape Coast, but this time I got fish and chips (man have I missed grease and ketchup). We ate quickly so that we could make it back to campus before the Ghana match at 4. We barely made it (3:57) and we all settled down to watch the match. It was the final game in the African Cup of Nations; we played Egypt, and we won’t talk about how it ended. Let’s just say it was a lot quieter tonight than it could have been.
We talked to Momma and Daddy, it was really good to hear their voices and get caught up on what’s been happening there. Apparently, we are missing about 8 inches of snow at home right now. :( Oh well, you can’t have it all. We are praying for Momma’s safe day tomorrow at work and anyone traveling on the roads. But please, enjoy the snow! :)
Miss yall!
After crashing super early Friday night after supper at the Night Market didn’t agree with me, I got up about 6 am to the already broken day outside to start packing for our trip. We walked to the Night Market about 8am to stock up on snacks and breakfast (2 egg sandwiches, 2 loaves of bread, juice, 1.5 L water, and cookies all for about $4 U.S.) and then loaded the tour bus. It took us about 3 hours to reach Cape Coast after crazy Saturday traffic and a pit stop at a very nice bathroom. We pulled into the university there for a (delicious) lunch of your choice of chicken/fish and plain/fried/jolaf rice. Then we set out for the slave castle there. The tour was informative and thought-provoking. I couldn’t begin to get my mind around how difficult that was for the people who passed through those dungeons and tunnels. The will power that they must have possessed to get through such horrors is beyond me. As we emerged from the dungeons to the beauty of the coastline just outside the walls, it was ironically fitting that the polar opposites lay so closely. You could feel freedom in the waves, the breeze, the beauty of the sunshine; all the while you could feel the pain of slavery in the strain of your eyes in the dark rooms, the stench of the dungeons, and the hopelessness of the future that the castle presented. It almost seemed wrong to smile for pictures.
After our tour, we hopped back on the bus and headed for our hotel for the night, which turned out to be a botel (whatever that means). It was located way out of the way but was close to Kakum (our destination for Sunday) and has excellent accommodations. There was a pool for swimming and hot water for showers. Some of the rooms even had air conditioning. A pond was located out front with a path around it so that you could get a better look at the crocodiles, of which there were apparently about 40. Some of us even pet a baby one who had come up on the bank. That is where we met Melissa (of Canada) and Alex (of England). We spent most of the night talking with them about movies, television, fast food, and other cultural issues of importance, while Judith and Mitch waited for their food. A band played throughout the evening and Evan even joined them on the drums once or twice before we all called it quits.
Kakum National Park (Sunday, January 31, 2010)
So we woke up about 6 this morning to the sound of thousands of birds outside. It didn’t take me long to realize that I was still at the botel. Karlie and I were the only ones up in our room and we tried our best not to wake anyone. We took showers, spent a little time reading and then headed to breakfast with Judith. Fresh orange juice. Toast, butter, marmalade, fried eggs, pineapple. Yum.
Mitch, Judith, Karlie, and I sat with Melissa and Alex, our two friends from the night before, and once again compared cultural differences. We didn’t have long before we had to say our goodbyes, pack up, and load the bus. We headed for Kakum National Park. We arrived a little early and had time to check out the gift shop before the hike up to the canopy walk. Our tour guide, “Fred,” told us a little about the rainforest and then we headed up to the canopy walk. It was composed of 6 or 7 bridges suspended by cables and rope, with aluminum ladders overlaid with 2x6s as a floor. It was plenty sturdy, but of course it shook and swayed. We all took lots of pictures (when we dared) and laughed and joked with each other as we enjoyed the scenery. I still couldn’t believe we are in Africa. Will it ever sink in?
Once we were on the bus, we were all ready for lunch. Again, we stopped at the restaurant on campus at Cape Coast, but this time I got fish and chips (man have I missed grease and ketchup). We ate quickly so that we could make it back to campus before the Ghana match at 4. We barely made it (3:57) and we all settled down to watch the match. It was the final game in the African Cup of Nations; we played Egypt, and we won’t talk about how it ended. Let’s just say it was a lot quieter tonight than it could have been.
We talked to Momma and Daddy, it was really good to hear their voices and get caught up on what’s been happening there. Apparently, we are missing about 8 inches of snow at home right now. :( Oh well, you can’t have it all. We are praying for Momma’s safe day tomorrow at work and anyone traveling on the roads. But please, enjoy the snow! :)
Miss yall!
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